


Everyman Needs A Companion

by JD_meister



Series: General Nefarious Shipping Week 2020 [3]
Category: Ratchet & Clank
Genre: A relationship being established, Boss/Employee Relationship, Fluff, It's not always easy being a robot, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oneshot, Post All-4-One, Trying to come to terms with new emotions, original timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27141268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JD_meister/pseuds/JD_meister
Summary: In the aftermath of what they called "The Magnus Incident", Dr. Nefarious and Lawrence settle back into their old normal. Or they would, if they could stop complicating matters between themselves. Nothing was ever easy or straightforward. Especially not relationships.
Relationships: Lawrence/Dr. Nefarious
Series: General Nefarious Shipping Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977172
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	Everyman Needs A Companion

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4 of the General Nefarious Shipping Week. The theme: Loving.
> 
> Another rare pair. How 'bout that? ;3
> 
> Well, the theme may have been loving, but this thing took a mind of its own and became its own thing. I'll let you be the judge of how I did with regards to the theme.
> 
> A good chunk of this fic was inspired by a song of the same name as the title, by Father John Misty. Another excellent song, I highly recommend listening to it when you get the chance.

Ever since that incident on planet Magnus, Nefarious had been... different. They, he and Lawrence that is, had arrived at their partially built space station after a long detour avoiding defence patrols and picking up missile stock. The doctor had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entire flight. Lawrence attributed it to low power levels coupled with the weariness of having to put up with squishies for a prolonged period of time.

Nefarious was quiet still when Lawrence performed a customary maintenance check for him after arriving back to the station, seeing as he didn't have the chance to do so during his excursion with his new found 'friends'.

“Are you quite alright, sir? You have been most quiet ever since planet Magnus.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just thinking.”

Usually if it were any other time Nefarious would not waste the chance to launch into detail over whatever was swirling around in his head, but it became clear to Lawrence that this was a matter that the doctor was not yet ready to speak of. “Of course, sir. Will you be needing anything else?”

Nefarious looked away in thought for a few moments. “No. Nothing right now.”

“Very well, sir. I'll leave you to your rest.”

Lawrence was not worried about him. He never worried. Worry was a foreign concept, and forbidden according to the programming his manufacturers gave him. No true butler bot worth his salt would allow himself to be seen worrying. It was not proper.

### 

The station was coming along nicely these days. Due to budget constraints it was a great deal smaller than their previous station, and infinitely more inconspicuous; Lawrence had successfully managed to talk Nefarious out of building it in the shape of his own head this time.

Construction had suffered delays, what with the Magnus incident and Lawrence's brief resignation during said incident, but now everything had been put back into motion. The core was fully complete and operational; now the work extended outwards. A miniature shipyard, hangars and docking bays, armouries, robotics production, resource stockpiles, crew accommodation, orbital defence systems, Nefarious was pulling no punches with this new design. 

They both watched from behind the reinforced viewport in the central office as outside a squad of construction bots manoeuvred an unwieldy section of metal framing into place and welded it to the superstructure. The station module in question was to eventually become a hangar bay for their future fleet, capable of supporting dozens of saucers at once. Once they were actually built, of course.

Lawrence ran through some of the numbers and data on his tablet. “At our current rate of work sir, it is estimated that it will only be two months now until we are back on our previous construction schedule.” He flicked through the data. “Sub-commander GX-25 reports a successful mission from the Ferros system, and will have the resources and supplies obtained delivered here within the week. That should tide us over for another month at the least.”

“Good, very good.” Nefarious said, a fist under his chin as he watched the construction. “Has there been any word from Operative SC-18 yet?”

“No, sir.”

Until the supplies arrived and SC-18 reported in, everything else was old news. They resumed observations of the construction work. It was nice watching other people work for a change. Lawrence was swiping through more data on his tablet when he felt a clawed hand gently grip his shoulder. 

“You know, I think I actually, genuinely, missed you Lawrence.”

Well, that was new. Lawrence had expected Nefarious to fly into an apocalyptic rage over the fact that he had taken off the moment things had gone foul with the Z'Grute at Luminopolis. That out of all the things they had been through together, _that_ was the straw that broke the camel's back and made him run away when, arguably, he was needed most. For all the help Lawrence would have been in such a situation. He was not built for combat.

He had not expected this reaction at all, to say the least. It took him off guard, but he did his best to recover. “You must admit sir, that I make for much better company than a certain heroic trio.”

“You do indeed. You're useful, and you won't natter on about water parks for one thing.” He patted his shoulder in affirmation.

“Dreadful places. I don't understand the appeal.” Nefarious hummed in agreement, hand still on his shoulder. Lawrence attempted a joke. “I daresay we shan't be building one here.”

That won a laugh from the doctor. “Can you imagine the mess?”

They went back to watching the construction. Lawrence hadn't realised that the hand was still on his shoulder until Nefarious picked at and brushed something off it before taking his hand away.

“Bit of lint stuck to you.” Nefarious said awkwardly and looked away from him, hands folding behind his back.

Lawrence doubted that, his chassis had an anti-dust finish, but he didn't press the matter. “Thank you, sir.”

### 

Nefarious didn't shout his name nearly half as often these days. Perhaps he was finally starting to mellow out now. His twenties and early thirties had been full of such turmoil and upheaval that maybe now he was starting to see the benefits of keeping a cool and level head. Lawrence hoped he was finally starting to rub off on him. 

He had been such a brash young upstart when they first met, always making trouble, always finding something to scream and shout about. He was always finding trouble back then too. Hopefully that was another habit Lawrence could help break. They both possibly had a chance of living to commendable ages – if Lawrence could keep encouraging this new, calmer behaviour that is. He could enjoy this new normal.

“LAWRENCE!!!” Came an oh so familiar scream from across the station. On the other hand, Nefarious _did_ like to lull him into a false sense of security. It was something of a pastime for the doctor. No matter. Lawrence would just have to continue being the cool voice of reason and logic to better match tempestuous emotion, as he had done so for years.

“Coming sir.” He said, even if there was no way Nefarious could hear him from here. Either a minion had driven one of the construction vessels into his personal ship again, Lawrence thought, or he had thought of a new, ill-advised plan for evil mayhem. Either way, he would need advice or consoling no matter what the issue was, and as always it fell to Lawrence to provide. Such was his life now.

### 

Lawrence should have known it would be a difficult day, right from the moment he left his charging station and saw a sizeable chunk of metal girder work drift freely in zero-G past the viewport. Well, whoever was responsible for supervising that was going to be annihilated later. That was guaranteed.

His second clue came when the servo in his right knee cracked severely, interfering with the rest of the mechanism and, taking him quite by indignant surprise, sending him stumbling to the ground in section 2-B. A trooper found him shortly after and brought him to Nefarious, who took him to his private workshop so he could assess the fault.

Lawrence now lay flat on his back on one of the workshops hard tables. A small cushion was under his head. His right leg was almost completely disassembled from the knee downwards.

“When did you last get your servos replaced?” Nefarious asked, inspecting the condition of his components.

“Approximately six years and four months ago.”

“Oh, that's far too long! Why didn't you ever say anything to me sooner Lawrence? You know full well one of my doctorates is in robotics – I can change servos with my eyes closed!”

“With all your different schemes, sir, I never found the right time.”

Nefarious grumbled in reluctant agreement and began his work. There was little for Lawrence do to whilst he waited for Nefarious to reassemble his leg. His work tablet was left to one side, the doctor didn't like his 'patients' being distracted as he worked, and there were few amenities or luxuries in the workshop, only an old radio tuned to one of the larger stations. 

Lawrence tuned out the announcer, who had such an obnoxious way of speaking, and only tuned back in again midway through the song being played. Belatedly, he realised it was none other than Courtney Gears with her new single. Now there was a blast from the past! It had been years since he had even thought of her. Her living in Solana and them in Polaris made regular communication rather difficult. Did Nefarious still talk to her? Did he still think of her? They had been rather close all those years ago.

“Did you ever get back in touch with your lady friend, sir?”

“Who? Courtney? Not really. It's been so long since we last talked, now that we live in different galaxies. Besides, we both moved on from what we had.”

Well, that answered that then. “Have you ever thought about seeing someone else?”

It took a while for Nefarious to respond, struggling to reattach two parts. “What's that?” He eventually asked, forgetting the conversation topic all together. He really should consider getting his head looked at by a professional someday. That damage from the lombax could not have done any good.

“Have you considered seeing anyone new?” Lawrence repeated, more slowly. 

“Someone new...”

The doctor's back was to him, and Lawrence could see how his shoulders dropped, how his hands hesitated over parts and tools. It seemed as if the very air of the room had cooled considerably just at the question, and Lawrence realised he may have overstepped himself. Was it really his place to be asking such things of his own employer? He was duty bound to attend to his needs, but there were still boundaries that should be respected, even if it was Nefarious. 

With Courtney perfectly happy in Solana and likely in a new relationship, if radio gossip was to be believed, and Cassiopeia now... gone, Nefarious didn't exactly have anyone else now. Well, there was Lawrence, of course, but he wasn't counting himself in this scenario. He was just the butler. He looked after things and helped ensure everything kept running the way it should. That included looking after his employer and his social and emotional needs.

“Forgive me, sir. I was only curious. It has been some time since you last saw someone, and now that your business on Magnus is concluded I only wondered if I would have to prepare the station for a new beau of yours.”

Nefarious still stood there staring down at the assemblage of parts before him. “That... won't be necessary.” He said quietly. “There is no-one else.”

“Are you sure, sir? It's almost strange to think of you alone, if you will pardon my saying.” 

Where are you going with this Lawrence, a part of him thought. Stop what you're doing right now before you make a complete fool of yourself. 

“And as your butler and second-in-command, I am duty bound to see that your needs are being met. I know you don't care for socialising with the troopers, and that we are still in the process of getting back on our feet, but I believe it would be good for you to.... Oh, what is the phrase? To get out there, as it were. Meet someone new. Hit it off with someone.

“There is a saying, from an old song, I don't know if you have heard it, that every man should have a companion, or something along those lines.”

“I've got you, haven't I?” Nefarious said.

Oh.

He knew he should have stopped talking when he had the chance. What could he say? What on earth could he, should he, possibly say now? 

When Lawrence didn't answer, Nefarious looked briefly over his shoulder.

“Do you want me to check your voice modulator as well? You've gone awfully quiet.”

“No.” It came out too fast, clipped and so unlike him. His propriety circuits kicked in and when he spoke he sounded coldly professional once more. “Thank you, sir. It's fine.”

“If you say so.” Nefarious said, although the expression on his face suggested otherwise. 

Lawrence returned to staring up at the ceiling, and resolved to never say a word again unless absolutely necessary. On the outside he was the picture of complete and utter indifference. Internally, his mind was working hard to process a dozen different things at once. A large part of his processing power was dedicated to berating himself; the rest questioned his own feelings on the matter. A small part of him tried to work out what Nefarious' feelings might have been, and exactly what he had meant by his statement, but it was being drowned out by everything else.

Lawrence knew two things now, however, about himself. That he was a fool, and that he was confused. He kept such thoughts to himself. It was no use distracting the doctor.

Speaking of; Nefarious came back to the workbench with a reassembled shin and foot in his hands, and promptly attached them to Lawrence. There was the minor jolt of wires reconnecting, and the clicks of metal and plastic slotting back into place. Lawrence tested the joints. They responded well with no grating or crunching. Much better.

“If that is the procedure completed, I should like to return to my duties, sir.”

Lawrence propped himself up on his elbows, fully prepared to hop down and take his leave, but not before a hand to his chest stopped him. His gears almost seized. 

“Oh no you don't. You lie down, I'm not done with you yet. These things come in a pack of two, and I'm not having you go around with mismatched knees. Not on my watch. Not on my station.”

Nefarious had a point. As much as Lawrence would have liked to leave, it would be illogical to proceed with one leg inferior to the other. That would be plain to any robot.

The removal and reassembly of his other knee took a great deal less time than the first, something Lawrence was thankful for. The faster it was, the sooner he could leave and think in private. There were many things he had to re-evaluate now. Priorities and personal feelings to consider.

Nefarious cleaned his hands off with a rag as Lawrence stood and tested the new servos. His knees hadn't moved so smoothly in years; it was like being fresh off the factory floor again. The doctor really knew his stuff.

As Nefarious turned away to clean-up his assembly bench, Lawrence took the opportunity to quietly leave. He really did not want to be dragged into a conversation regarding whatever was between them. Not right now. He needed to think first.

He was already far down the corridor by the time Nefarious noticed. “Are you _sure_ you don't need your voice modulator checked? It's really no bother... Oh, you've gone.”

### 

Lawrence knew everything had been running too smoothly recently. 

Nefarious had gone out on a minor expedition and had come back carried in the arms of one of his troopers after catching some sort of software infection.

Lawrence was not familiar with the details, but after some gentle questioning, or interrogation if you asked Nefarious, the root of the problem was laid bare, and, as usual, it was all entirely the doctor's own fault. He knew the dangers about plugging oneself into a strange computer and yet carried on regardless, citing a direct interface with the machine was the fastest way of getting the information he wanted. Now he was laid low for an indefinite period of time as his own virus protection software tried to deal with the problem, and Lawrence had the questionable delight of seeing to his every fussy need.

So, essentially, it was business as usual once more.

At least the lombax had not gotten involved. The last thing Lawrence wanted was for Nefarious to come back in pieces. Again.

“This is ridiculous!” Nefarious choked out from within the pillow fortress he had turned his bed into. “How can robots get sick?! I thought I was past the days of getting a cold!”

Lawrence smoothed out the sheets again. “Life finds a way. I just hope you will learn a lesson from this, sir. Think before you act, and don't plug yourself into a strange computer without checking thoroughly beforehand.”

“Yes, _mom_!” Nefarious said, sarcastically. At least he still sounded like himself.

“You know I have your best interests at heart, sir.”

“Oh yes, the Lawrence brand of 'special loving care'. How can I forget?”

Special loving care? That was a new one. Lawrence didn't dare dwell too long on it. “I aim to please.”

“Pleasing who, I wonder...” Nefarious muttered.

“Pardon, sir?”

“Nothing.”

For the moment, it seemed Nefarious finally accepted his situation and flopped backwards into his pillows with a huff. Lawrence left the holovision remote and one of the games console controllers with arms reach of him. Just in case.

“If that will be everything sir, I will return to the lounge. Please rest.”

Nefarious waved him away, too tired evidently to even look up, and Lawrence left him to it.

He could finally get back on schedule. The ironing wasn't going to do itself after all. Provided a certain someone actually stayed in bed and didn't distract him for once, he may even have been able to get it all done tonight.

The board was still set up where he left it. Lawrence flicked through the holovision channels as the iron heated back up. Sports? No. Gameshow? No. The news? Certainly not. He finally settled on a film. It was monochrome movie week according to the channel. Some old romance or another was playing at the moment. Having missed the start, Lawrence only half paid attention to it as he began ironing bedsheets.

It was approximately twenty minutes later he realised Nefarious was standing, leaning, a blanket draped around his shoulders, in the doorway behind him.

“Was bored. Wanted to watch the holo through here.” He mumbled, already anticipating the question that had not even left Lawrence's mouth yet.

“There is a perfectly good holovision set in your room sir.” With a full channel package, two different games consoles and more games than he knew what to do with. What invalid wouldn't have been happy with that?

“I know. I just want to be through here. Is that a crime?”

It should have been. “Not that I am aware of.”

Nefarious grumbled quietly but otherwise said nothing, only flipping down onto to his side to watch the film. Thus they stayed for the next hour or so – Lawrence ironing and folding, Nefarious watching. Occasionally he had the odd hiccup of static but he was otherwise sedate.

It was late by the time the end credits rolled. Well, late for an organic perhaps. Time held little meaning for robots in their own private station far out in the wild reaches of deep space. Lawrence put the board and iron away and hefted the full basket of laundry.

Nefarious was sprawled out on the sofa, hovering on the point between low power mode and forced hibernation. Whatever virus was afflicting him, it was certainly a drain on his power. Lawrence shepherded him back to his private quarters and his bed.

Why he had a bed Lawrence wasn't sure. Most robots were perfectly content with a charging station. It must have been one of his many hang ups from his squishy years. Lawrence put away the laundry and linens in the wall storage whilst Nefarious settled himself on the edge of bed, the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. He looked about ready to fall asleep sitting up.

Lawrence came around and put one hand on his shoulder to steady him, and the other on his head, near the scarred metal and cracked glass.

“You really must let me do something about this someday, sir.”

“You don't think it makes me look ruggedly handsome? Some people find facial scars attractive.”

Lawrence was torn between saying nothing and telling him he sounded like that oaf Qwark. That would have gone down well.

“When was the last time you recharged, sir?”

Nefarious huffed. “Yesterday.”

Lawrence picked up the heavy duty spool of charging cable from the floor and pressed it into his hands. “Please, for both our sakes, get some proper rest.”

“I don't want to be alone.” 

Lawrence froze, staring at him. Nefarious stared back, half asleep, half... Lawrence wasn't sure. He wanted to believe that he was only saying such things because he liked to wind Lawrence up, to annoy him, to waste his time; that he was, for lack of a better word, ill, and not in full control of what he was saying at the present. Low power mode did funny things to the robotic mind. It made them say things they would otherwise never dream or dare of.

Nefarious was staring at him like he knew completely what he had said and meant.

It would be inappropriate, Lawrence wanted to say. Well, he didn't _want_ to say it, rather, he knew it was the proper thing to say. What he wanted and what was proper had been having a free-for-all battle royale in his processor recently.

“We run on differing recharge schedules sir.” He said instead. When Nefarious looked blankly at him he explained. “You rest late and thus wake late; I recharge early and thus am awake much earlier than you.”

Nefarious tapped a beat on his crossed arms. “Are you afraid I'll be a bad influence on you?” 

“You are a terrible influence on other people, sir. I am only concerned for disturbing your rest when you are _clearly_ in dire need of it.”

Nefarious hummed. It sounded suspiciously like a riff from Bass Odyssey. “Hm. There's your special brand of loving care again.”

You are making this harder than it needs to be, sir. “It's only ever reserved especially for you, sir.”

“'Cause you don't have anyone else.”

“Neither do you.”

Nefarious stared at him again. He was not angry, at least as far as Lawrence could tell. He wasn't sure at all what emotion was on the doctor's face.

“What are we Lawrence? What would you call us?”

He thought a moment. “Two tired machines in need of respite.”

“Lie down then. There's a spare charging cable somewhere around here.”

“I do not wish to complicate things, sir.”

“You won't. You never did.”

Lawrence stood, he wasn't sure when he had sat down, and walked around to the other side of the bed. He found the spare cable snaked across the floor and plugged it into a port in his side.

Nefarious had already hooked himself up and laid down on his side, his back to the door, facing Lawrence, who had already removed his bow-tie and set it aside.

Lawrence laid on his back, staring up at the slow rotation of the stars through the reinforced one way viewport in the ceiling, his hands folded over his stomach. Nefarious turned the lights all the way down until there was only a soft blue glow from the aquarium tank mounted in the wall, above the bed.

This was different. The bed was comfortable, not nearly as unpleasant as he thought it might be, the sheets soft and not clinging to his chassis. Lawrence had himself to thank there – he was the one who bought them.

Nefarious would build and design; Lawrence would coordinate and decorate. It was a two person commitment running this station. Many things in life worked best with two people working together. The universe liked things to be in pairs.

Being one half of a pair would be... nice, he supposed. After a time spent thinking, Lawrence spoke again, softly, into the night. “You called me a companion, that other day. I would say perhaps we are counterparts, as well.”

The silence stretched on. A dull creaking of bulkheads. The constant low rumble of the station's power core. Distant echoing sounds of construction. He was afraid Nefarious was already asleep, ignorant of his words.

“Counterparts.” Nefarious mumbled sleepily. “I like that.”

A strange surge of boldness shot through his circuits and before Lawrence even knew what he was doing, he had sought out Nefarious's hand in the dark. Nefarious squeezed tightly in response.

Lawrence's thoughts often turned to him, more so now than ever these days. He told himself he didn't worry about him. Usually, that was true. Right up until it blatantly wasn't.

He was always getting into trouble, always getting hurt, physically and otherwise. Someone had to look after him, to care. It was difficult, _he_ was difficult, but gods be damned if Lawrence gave up now after all this effort he had spent.

For a hard life, there was nothing like - what was it? - special loving care to make it worthwhile. Lawrence could be good at that. He would make it a part of his programming. His new directive.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent about three weeks or so before the start of this challenge making notes for each day, writing little bits here and there, and trying to get a little bit done each week for each day.
> 
> It is now very obvious to me where the bulk of my attention was. What can I say? I love my boys. I want them to be happy.
> 
> I think a relationship between Nef and Lawrence would be like some sort of cross of R2-D2 and C-3PO with Freddie and Stuart from BBC's Vicious. My skill level isn't quite there yet though to be writing that yet, I feel.
> 
> And if you're wondering where Day 3 is, it is safely ensconced within my WIPs folder at the moment. It will come at a later date.


End file.
